


Five Senses

by Lizardbeth



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-06
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharon and Helo's missing year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sight: The Empty Glass

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This fic was originally posted as part of the LJ "Five Senses" challenge back in March 2006. Some of my speculation about how Season 3 would open turned out to be... not very correct, but I decided not to fix it.

He can only see her now. When she drops the phone, all he can do is look at her. The hard glass wall of her cage doesn't block his sight, even though sometimes he wishes it could.

She turns and walks away.

"Hey! Sharon! I love you!" He pounds on the glass, shouting, trying to make her turn toward him, "And I'm not giving up this frakkin' easy! Not after everything!" But she doesn't hesitate, just stretches out on the cot and stares up at the ceiling.

He watches, hoping, praying, that she'll look at him. He wants a sign of some kind that she's still there. But she doesn't move.

For a moment, he remembers how she looked under the orange Caprican light -- beautiful and free. Even on this last trip with grief-shadowed eyes, she held his gaze. His eyes lingered on the light in her hair and how it warmed her skin. This hard bluish light of her cell makes her look pale and frosted, as if she is waiting to die.

He can't bear to see anymore and leaves, too occupied to notice the absence of the usual hostile glances, as the crew have finally found something else to talk about.

Once upon a time, he was content to look at her. He was her ECO on the Raptor and her friend -- it had been enough just to watch her in the forward chair or across the card table. But not anymore.

Not that Sharon is Boomer anyway. He accepted that some time ago, even if no one else understands that he knows 'his' Sharon is someone else. He knows who she is -- he knows _what_ she is. It doesn't matter. Or rather, it matters, but not in the way they think it should. He wants to shake them -- Roslin and Adama and everyone else -- shove their faces in Sharon's pain and demand that they take a good look at her and see. Just because she isn't human doesn't mean she isn't alive. That she doesn't feel.

But they don't want to see it. Because then they'd have to acknowledge that the toasters can be more than machines. They are the enemy, but they are also people.

He hopes he sees Sharon more clearly than the others, that he is able to look past reflexive fear to the reality of Sharon. She helped the humans because of him and because of Hera, and what had she received back? Distrust, hatred, fear, and a baby she believed had been murdered.

For an instant, he remembers tiny Hera gripping Sharon's finger, piercing loss sweeping through him. He clutches one of the struts and has to close his eyes, trying to push the image away. The only thing that helps is remembering Sharon with her face wet with rain and glimmering in the firelight.

They can get through this together, but never alone. He needs to find a way to help her see him again, and not Hera's innocent face every time she closes her eyes.

But how, if she won't even look at him or hear what he says? How can he touch a heart so broken, when she's wrapped herself beyond his reach?

He has to find a way. For her and for himself, but most of all, for them. If they fail each other, what hope does humanity have, if there is no promise of forgiveness and peace?


	2. Hearing: Buzzing of Bees

"I'm not giving up so frakkin' easy!"

To Sharon, it's nothing but sound. Helo's voice, the hum of the circulation system, and the drone of the engines is all one noise.

He comes back the next day.

"Sharon, talk to me, please..."

She remembers bees. Even after nuclear holocaust, they were searching for flowers, and one of them kept buzzing near her ear.

Day after day, Helo comes to visit her and she ignores him. She wants to tell him to give up, let her go. But she's too numb to speak. Blank. Like an empty channel on the wireless.

Helo's tactics change, turning chatty about President Baltar and the new planet they're apparently going to settle (confirming her belief in the general stupidity of humans). She doesn't care about the Fleet or Baltar.

She thinks she doesn't care about Helo either.

Until the day he doesn't come.

Kara Thrace does. Sharon stares upward.

Kara knocks on the glass. "Give it up, Sharon. I've been in hack often enough to know you can hear me."

Sharon can hear, but that doesn't mean she has to listen. There are three hundred and fifty-two rivets in the ceiling.

"Fine," Kara says. "I'm gonna talk anyway. I'm sorry about your baby; I am. I understand that it's tough for you. But it's tough for Karl too, and what you're doing to him is unforgivable."

Hearing "Karl" attracts her attention. Sharon never thinks of it as his name. It sounds strange.

Kara's voice turns low and biting. "You're killing him, do you care about that at all? I can barely get him to eat. I had to pull him off CAP because he's such a frakkin' mess. So you know what? I'm going down to New Caprica and I'm going to take him with me. Because if you won't help him -- I will."

Suddenly she's looking at Kara. It's Kara's game face -- Sharon has no idea if she's bluffing or not. Probably not.

Kara bares her teeth a little, satisfied. "Sam and I will teach him to play decent Pyramid. And he'll meet some nice girl from Aeliron. The memories of his Cylon girlfriend will get buried and good riddance."

"No," Sharon whispers. The word takes her by surprise, but she means it. She stands up. "No. You can't take him away."

Kara feigns surprise. "Why not? You certainly don't give a frak. I don't think you ever really did. It was all about the baby -- get the human to get you pregnant. But now there's no baby, so the human's irrelevant trash -- "

"No!" Sharon shouts. Kara's words are sharp, cutting through the muffling insulation and exposing her pain again. "That's not true!"

"Prove it."

The words seem to echo long after Kara's gone.

Helo comes the next day. He looks terrible, too small, and hangs his head.

"I can't do this alone," he murmurs. "Tell me what else I can do. Please, Sharon..." his voice trails off in defeated misery, and he rests his head against the cell wall, one large hand flat against the glass.

All through his words she's moving toward him. He doesn't hear her movement, staying slumped and still.

"Helo." Her voice cracks. But he hears. Their eyes meet, and she remembers their promise: together.

"Helo," she says again. "Don't go."

She raises her hand and matches his, almost touching.

Suddenly, tears slide down their faces, as they press their hands together.

In silence.


	3. Touch: Lack of Perfection

Sometimes Sharon dreads Helo's visit. Sometimes when she sees him, all she can remember is that moment of joy when the three of them were a family. The touch of her baby's hand was the most perfect moment Sharon has ever known. The knowledge that the moment is lost forever remains unbearable.

Despite the loss, she usually anticipates his arrival eagerly. But whenever he's not with her, she worries. It's only a matter of time before the Cylons find the Fleet, and Helo's on the front lines on CAP. He's all she has left, and she wants to cling to him and keep him safe. She wishes she could ask him to stop flying, but she knows about duty.

The echo of memory comes back to her:

 _Three ordered, "It is believed that Eight and Four may be viable. You have been selected for this procreative coupling."_

 _Eight gave the only possible answer, "By your command."_

At first, she and Helo use the phone to talk, but discover that if they both sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, the inch of clear composite can carry their conversation just fine.

It is not quite touching, but since Adama refuses to open the door, it's as close as they can get. She rests her head against the wall, next to his, and closes her eyes. She tries to content herself with memories of Caprica, and sometimes it's almost enough.

There were leaves in her hair, and dirt-roughened fingers on her skin. His lips were dry. He was too tall. His hands were clumsy in his haste.

 _The bed was soft and comfortable. Eight waited there, until Four came through the door. He was naked, just as she was. She watched him approach, willing to do her duty, but inside, she felt nothing._

She never expected to feel anything. It was an assignment, nothing more. But his touch was exciting. His kiss made her heart rate flutter dangerously fast.

Helo will never understand why she loves him. His human imperfection, his passion, his _weaknesses_ are precious to her -- Cylons don't have them. They do everything perfectly.

 _Four touched her proficiently. Her body responded as it should, accepting him within her easily. When he finished, he stood by the edge of the bed. Three and Six joined him and looked down at her._

 _Eight felt nothing different in her body and reported: "The attempt failed." Four didn't even look back as he left._

 _She wondered if the experience always felt so empty for the humans, too._

In that moment, when Helo's touch surrounded her and she felt as though the whole universe could burn as long as he didn't stop, she knew she was lost. She found something new with him. In reaching for completion with him, she stepped off the shallow path of duty into an unknown, uncertain solitude.

After the touch of his cheek against her hair in affectionate caress, she can never go back to the way she was. The remembered feel of his arms around her holds her safe, even when she knows what an illusion it is.

Once she was one of many, and now she is apart from everyone, even Helo. But at least they are no different, each on one side of the wall. Alone.


	4. Smell: A Path in the Forest

In hindsight, Helo realizes that he knew from the beginning that Sharon was not the Boomer he'd known. She smelled different. He'd been in close quarters with her on the Raptor and in the pilots' rack long enough to know her scent. Even that first hug when she'd 'come back' for him, it hadn't been the same.

Of course, he'd been so glad to see her he'd promptly excused it as an after-effect of his irradiated nose and her lack of Fleet-issue soap, and not thought about it again until much later.

But now that he can't smell her anymore, he finds he misses the pine scent that lingered in her hair from the Caprican forest and the citrus tang of sweat on her skin.

He sits next to the glass so they can talk, and he forces himself to be glad to have even this much. She could be taken away from him so easily, by her own will or someone else's.

They don't talk much about the future or the past. That leaves them the present. He shares the pilots' gossip as well as news about the colonization efforts, trying to give her something to lighten her day.

The day after Kara leaves for New Caprica permanently, Sharon frowns at him and asks, "Who's going to be CAG now?"

He shrugs. "Don't know. Kat maybe. Old Man hasn't said yet."

"A transfer from Pegasus you think?" She tries to make the question casual, but he meets her gaze. He thinks of the last time those bastards from Pegasus came here, and reaches out to her in comfort. His fingers bounce from the glass, forgetting it's there.

"Apollo cleaned house over there. But even so, I doubt we'll get anybody from there. Please don't worry."

She forces a little smile. "I was worried for you, actually. An unsympathetic CAG can make your life rough, Helo."

"Whoever it is, I can deal with it," he reassures her. His fingers stroke down the glass as if it's her face, ending with a tap of what would be her nose. "Most of the pilots are okay. I do my job; they do theirs."

"'Most'?" She glances down at her hands. "You'd be better off without me."

"Never. I'm not letting go, Sharon."

That wins a real smile and a return touch on the glass.

"All the way, together," she promises. In the five months since Hera's death, she's still prone to sadness, but now the grief opens up occasionally - sometimes in anger, sometimes in wry amusement. He's glad to see it, and it makes him feel better as well.

The door opens behind him. Helo turns around, to find Admiral Adama coming in. He jumps to his feet. "Sir."

"As you were, lieutenant," Adama says, heading for the phone. After a glance at Helo, Sharon slowly rises to her feet and crosses to the phone, lifting it to her ear. Her expression is very still, wary and cold. She waits for him to speak first.

Adama looks from her, back at Helo, and then to Sharon again. He takes a deep breath and speaks. "Do the Cylons know about this planet?"

Helo asked her weeks ago, and she gives the same answer, very flat. "I don't know. But they will. Today, tomorrow, ten years from now, they will find it."

Adama nods once, the furrows deepening on his face. "I think so, too." He pauses and then meets her eyes. "Do you love Lieutenant Agathon?"

She hesitates, and Helo watches the bitter and angry answers flash through her face. But she settles on, "Not that you believe me, but yes. I won't endanger him."

Adama nods again, and his eyes don't leave hers. "Fair enough. You may not believe me either, but for what it's worth -- your baby was not killed. She was not murdered by my orders or anyone else's."

Sharon stares at him and doesn't move, and Helo steps closer, worried, "Sharon?"

He can barely hear her whisper, "I think I believe you."

"Lieutenant," Adama beckons Helo over to him with his free hand, not letting go of the phone. "Do you want to go to New Caprica?"

Helo's mouth turns dry, and he has to swallow to find his voice. "No, sir. As long as Sharon is here, I want to stay on _Galactica_."

"Good." Adama answers unexpectedly. "With Starbuck down on the planet to stay, we're missing a CAG. We're short-handed, more so every day, but I think it's important to keep up patrols as much as we can. I need someone I can depend on to stay, and keep some stability for the kids who'll rotate in and out." He reaches into his pocket, and Helo stands there, stunned by what the admiral's saying.

Putting down the phone briefly, he switches out Helo's collar insignia. "Captain Agathon. Congratulations."

Helo blurts before thinking, "Sir, are you -- are you sure?"

Adama flashes a slightly crooked smile that makes him look suddenly younger than his years. "Son, I think you'll find that command is just pretending to a certainty that you rarely have. But in this case, I'm sure." His gaze encompasses Sharon too. "Trust has to begin somewhere."

Helo can't find anything to say as Adama hangs up the phone. He says to the guards on the way out, "Captain Agathon may enter Miss Valerii's cell at will."

One of the guards opens the door.

Feeling like a sleepwalker, Helo enters Sharon's box. She moves in front of him and reaches up to touch his new insignia. "Captain Agathon," she murmurs, and smiles proudly, lighting her eyes. "It has a nice sound."

The realization of where he is suddenly breaks through him. All these long, endless months of being locked away from her ... and now she's there.

He pulls her against him, crushing her, and her arms lock around his body. She's shaking, and he realizes she's crying. He brushes his cheek against her soft hair, murmuring her name over and over again, and closes his eyes to feel every precious second.

Somehow her hair still has the scent of pine trees and sunlight.


	5. Taste: The Most Precious Gift of All

Helo carries the small box against his body, taking care to watch his step at the hatchways so he doesn't drop it. There are few people in the corridors, of course, so he's not likely to bump into anyone, but he still keeps a wary eye out for anyone who might be running around the corners.

 _Galactica_ feels like the museum ship she was intended to be, before the attack. Fewer than one hundred crew are now aboard, barely enough to keep routine maintenance going. Helo himself has been bumped to bridge watch officer, since there is now only one daily CAP, and that is run from _Pegasus_. He doesn't flatter himself that he does the job as well as Gaeta, but at least he can watch the Dradis and plot a jump if he needs to. It's not that different from the Raptor.

Despite his new position, he still keeps the CAG's quarters, preferring to be closer to the launch bay, just in case. When the enemy comes, the ship might need a Raptor ready to go. So he doesn't have too far to walk with his box from the deck.

With his free hand, he enters the access code on the outer hatch of his quarters and pulls the door open.

Sharon is there, in the door, and she smiles at him.

All thoughts of war melt away at the brightness, and for just that moment, she is all that he knows. He's seen her at the doorway of their quarters for several months now, ever since Adama released her to house arrest under Helo's parole, and yet every time he finds her there, it's a new miracle.

She rises to tiptoe and lifts her face in expectation. His mouth finds hers with the ease of precious familiarity. Her lips are not a machine's, no matter what anyone might believe, and she tastes of minty mouthwash and the faint hint of caramel.

He pulls back and raises his brows at her, teasing, "You ate one of the candies, didn't you?"

She tries to look innocent, but fails miserably, "Who me?" Then she giggles. "Can't put anything past you, can I?" She stands aside, taking his hand and pulling him across the threshold.

He pulls the door closed and holds out the box. "Here, I, uh, acquired this for you. It's much better than year-old candy, I promise. Be gentle," he warns her, when she takes it.

She curls her feet under her on the sofa, box on her lap, and pats the seat next to her. He sheds his uniform jacket, and joins her. "Go on, open it."

"What's the occasion?" she asks and then gives him a slanting, rather smoky look. "And what am I going to have to give in return?" Her near hand touches his knee and slides up his thigh, and his jaw tightens at the sudden warmth.

He takes her hand and laces her fingers with his, "It's actually next week, but I couldn't wait. One year since we met."

She has a little frown on her face that melts away into a look of surprise. "It is. I hadn't realized. One year."

"While I can't say that I wish things hadn't happened differently for us," he admitted, thinking of Hera and months of separation. Sharon leans against him and puts her head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around her. "I can say that I'm glad we found each other. And I wouldn't trade these days with you for anything."

Her voice is soft. "All through those dark times, I thought I didn't need you... But I did. You saved me, Helo. You've saved me so many times, when anyone else would've given up a long time ago. God wasn't there, but you were. You still are. You're the very best of humanity."

He snuggles her close and kisses the top of her head. "And you are the very best of Cylon-inity."

That draws a snort and she pulls back, to repeat in amused disbelief, "'Cylon-inity?"

He shrugs, grinning, "Whatever. Open your present." He nods toward the box and she unties the string and lifts the lid.

She gasps with delight. "How? How did you get these?"

Reaching inside, she lifts out a strawberry with delicate touch and holds it up. It is perfect and dark red, and there is another just like it in the box.

"It seems wrong to destroy something so beautiful," she says, cradling it in her fingers.

"Go ahead," he tells her with a smile. "It'll only spoil if you don't eat it."

She holds it up and nibbles off the tip. Her eyes close in bliss. "It tastes like summer," she whispers and offers it to him. The berry is sweet, but it's more fun to watch her eat it.

He picks up the other berry and feeds it to her, bit by bit. Then he leans forward to touch his lips to hers, and tastes the strawberry in her mouth.She presses against him, and her hands find the bottom of tank and pulls it up. Her hands are warm on his bare back. He leaves her mouth to press kisses on her jaw and cheek and to suck on her earlobe, before kissing her under the ear enough to make her moan.

Her scent is familiar and intoxicating, and her skin is like whipped cream. He intends to taste every smooth inch of her and celebrate the day they found each other.

In between wordless mews of pleasure, she says the words that he lives for, every day.

"I love you, Helo."

 

 **CODA**

Sharon can feel them. Her people have come.

Only a moment later the red alert starts to flash.

She runs to command, to Helo, and races into the room. Only Adama and Helo are there. Helo's busy, plotting a jump, and her gaze meets Adama's.

For just a moment, she sees the doubt flicker in his face; the wonder if finally she's going to betray them. She waits and does nothing.

Then, very mildly, he tells her, "Ms Valerii, take your post."

She nods once, feeling warmed by his acceptance. Helo lifts his head to meet her eyes, and gives her a distracted smile of welcome. There is no doubt in his face at all.

She sits down at the comm station. As dire as the situation is, she has to smile. For the first time in a very long time, she feels a part of a greater whole again.

Even as the ship takes her many light-years away from her people, Sharon, Number Eight, is home.

 

 _The end._


End file.
